


Open your (too many) Eyes

by rainbowsinshadesofblue



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eyes, Gen, canon typical worms, jon turns into a monster and is in denial the whole time asmr, slight body horror, tags characters and warnings will be updated with later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowsinshadesofblue/pseuds/rainbowsinshadesofblue
Summary: It happens slowly, drawn out across years of fear and pain, but by the end few can deny that Jonathan Sims has truly become a monster. I mean, what sort of human has that many eyes?AKA I wanted to write jon turning into a monster fic but I’m too tired to write the whole thing rn so! Chapter fic
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, but only if u squint cause i don’t have the emotional energy to write a full romance
Comments: 26
Kudos: 148





	1. 1 and 2

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic that I’m posting so!! Please don’t be harsh or anything and leave comments so I actually have the motivation to finish this!! 
> 
> Beta-d by my friend petal!! Love u thank u for reading my fic even tho u have no clue who any of these characters are
> 
> Anyways hope u enjoy!!

The first eye appears not long after he accepts the position as Head Archivist of the Institute. Half asleep, Jonathan Sims stumbles out of his cot in document storage and towards the bathroom. A quick splash of water, and he lifts his face up towards the mirror to see himself for the first time that day. And, right there under his right eye, sits another one that he was certain had never been there before in his life. 

He screams, of course. Stumbles away from the mirror and hits his back on the wall behind him, and hard. His toothbrush toppled off of the sink and he can see something that had been hanging on the wall slip to the ground out of the corners of his eyes. Breathing fast and shallow, he brings both hands up to his face and starts rubbing furiously at the two eyes he’s more familiar with. And when the hands fall away, his cheek is just as pristine as it was before. Peppered with faint acne scars and still slightly damp, but eye-less. 

Jon rushes back towards the mirror, hands softly going over his skin where the eye had seemingly been. Not even the slightest impression remained, no line in the skin or bump left behind. Maybe he just... needs more sleep. That’s absolutely it, he’s decided that’s the answer and is taking no more suggestions. He cards his hand through his bedhead and sighs deeply. Maybe he should’ve headed home last night. Getting such bad sleep must be messing with his head. Jon turns, one last time, back towards the mirror before shuffling out of the bathroom, desperate to leave whatever just happened far behind. And if he’s a bit more snippy than usual today? Well, nobody takes much of a notice to that. 

—

The second eye is even easier to forget, even though it can’t simply be written off as Jon’s sleep-addled mind playing tricks on him. Unfortunately for everyone involved, it is easily and successfully played off as his panicked mind putting something where it shouldn’t. Because the archives are currently being flooded with worms, and that probably isn’t the best time to focus on any new additions to the body of the Archivist, other than the worms crawling into his flesh.

Jon and Martin are hiding, gazing out a window towards the writhing floor of bugs. The tape recorder spins dutifully, capturing every ounce of audio that enters the room. The two soft voices talking to one another, the squirming of worms desperately trying to find something, anything to feed on, and it’s own staticky feedback. Jon asks Martin a question, and loud laughter fills the spaces in between and around them in the span of a second, before quickly silencing itself. 

Jon shifts, sitting beside Martin instead of facing him. Their backs face towards the empty remainder of the room, as well as the door that let them in in the first place. Completely blind to the worms wriggling under the cracks and tearing into the walls. Without knowing why, Jon gets the feeling to open his eyes. Which makes absolutely no sense, why would he need to do that if they already were? But he doesn’t have many better ideas, so he obliges, and sees the worms doing their very best to get under and around the door. 

“Martin, GO!” The yell rips itself from Jon’s throat, followed by a startled noise from Martin as his hand is grabbed and dragged towards the other end of the room. The corkscrew is held so tightly in his hand it hurts, and he can feel the edges digging into his sweaty palm. He looks up from the worms, from his hand (one gripped oh so tightly in Jon’s), and at Jon himself. Or more specifically, the bright eye that has decided to make its home on the back of his neck. 

The eye itself is nothing special. It shares the same deep green hue that Jon’s do, with the same long eyelashes and even the same sleep-deprived bags under it. If it weren’t so absolutely horrifying, Martin would think it was funny that even his weird spooky extra eye needed to take a nap. But this was no time for laughing or questioning, and the two fled to the back of the room. Too late to notice the knocking (which scared the both half to death, especially with the worms gaining on them), but thankfully just in time to be with Tim as he burst through the wall, fire extinguishers in hand. 

When Martin looked again, the eye was gone. He never mentioned it to anyone after.

Jon had no idea for a long time how exactly he knew the worms were there, and why the back of his neck felt so irritated for the next week.


	2. 3 and 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i give this man Even More Eyes (asmr)
> 
> Beta-d by my friends petal and apollo!! i love yall than u for readin this chunk of words

The third and fourth eyes appear together. The tunnels smell like wet earth, and walking through them feels eerily close to being in a grave. Faint sounds travel lazily through the air, the static of a tape recorder in tandem with the soft noises from people walking several feet above. His torch is the only light source in sight, and it’s weak at that, flickering every so often. His own footsteps fill the air, too, echoing things that bounce off the walls so often that he can’t tell if there’s someone behind him. 

And then suddenly, (or not so suddenly, if you know what to expect), his torch goes out, and the tunnels are a special sort of pitch black. Jon stumbles and slams into the ground, hearing his torch and tape recorder clatter down beside him. He leaves them behind as he begins to shuffle towards where the walls of the tunnel should be. The torch won’t be much use if it’s not working, and the tape recorder will hear anything that happens anyways. He regrets leaving them behind after several seconds of moving, when he realizes there definitely is no wall where there had been one not moments before. 

He slowly rises to his feet and is immediately overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched. Not unlike the kind he gets when he reads statements, or the one that appears sometimes when he is wandering the institute halls, muttering into his tape recorder like it’s his most trusted confidant. It’s a feeling so familiar and yet utterly terrifying that he whips around, scanning the twisting tunnels for any sort of monster that could be hiding down with him. 

And then, Jonathan Sims realizes he can see. 

But it is in no way normal, no. His point of view is much too low for any sort of normal eye placement, the eyes too far apart, the way they move almost nauseating. He has a feeling, though, and looks down at the palms of his hands. Two big green eyes gaze back up at him. 

In the moment, Jon sees from two very different perspectives — the two newer eyes sit on his hands, softly glowing and blinking up at him, and those on his own face. He sees his expression clearly, as if he was looking through a mirror, all filled with horror. His eyes, green and welling with tears. His mouth, wide open, warped in just the right way to give off the impression of a scream, and he closes it shut with a painful click. Making more noise than necessary was probably the worst possible idea at that moment, so Jon decides to have a quiet crisis instead of a fit of terror. 

Jon feels his legs collapse to the floor, and he shifts to sit himself down. Not once does he stop staring into his second pair of eyes, making for a moment that lasts longer than he would like to admit. His hair is knotted and ratty, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t changed his undershirt in almost a week, but most of all he just looks tired. It feels like the first time he’s actually _looked_ at himself in... since Prentiss attacked, really. It’s a weird feeling. 

Emotions other than fear and a sick sort of wonder slowly trickle back into his mind, and the tape recorder spinning several feet away once again captures his attention. He still has a job to do, a murder to solve, and several suspects to knock off his mental list. He darts to go grab it, checking it for any noticeable damage, and gives a sigh of relief when it comes up clear. Tape recorder in hand, Jon shambles his way through the dark back to the trap door leading into the archives. He tries to not think about the reason he can find his way back. He doesn’t succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: oh i am hyperfixating. im gonna write a fic!! i will not lose motivation to make weekly chapters!!  
> me, three weeks later, crawling out of the ground: w. where am i. what year is it
> 
> anyways im gonna try!! to make chapters more consistent!! i fell into mechs hell and read so many violinspecter fics. so many. shout out to all the mechs fans reading this

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me @more-than-3-eyes on tumblr!! I post a lot there and I may be the only one who finds me funny but imo I’m fucking hilarious
> 
> love u if u read this far <3


End file.
